Gemotions

The locker room felt cramped and suffocating. The air smelled of sweat and liniment, and the sound of cleats scuffing the floor seemed like a distant rumble. I was a goalie. Always a goalie. Now, they wanted me at center forward.

“We need your reflexes up front,” Coach Ramirez said, but his voice was drowned out by the thumping in my chest. The idea of being in the thick of it, of scoring goals, of being the target... I felt a hollowness in my stomach.

I stared at the floor, picking at the tape on my shin guards. My usual fire was extinguished. The world seemed muted and colorless.